Prologue

The sound of my note-taking was an unwelcome melody to my ears. Unlike those videos where people recreate famous songs using nothing but a pencil and paper, my writing was producing a horrible tune. It was almost like listening to a kindergartener learning to play a recorder—or at least a tone-deaf kindergartener.

I tried to ignore it, but my anxiousness and slight aggravation were getting the better of me. All I could focus on was the noise. Determined to see my task through and end the sound, I hastily finished jotting down the last of my notes.

With one final swish of my pencil, I completed my thoughts and threw down my writing utensil as if it was cursed. It bounced and then rolled to a stop on the wooden table.

Free from the torturous device, I leaned back, let out a long sigh, and began massaging my right hand. My fingers were sore and about ready to die. About an hour in, after ceaselessly scribbling away, a blister had formed on my pointer finger, making the previous hours of note-taking a painful endeavor.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time. It’s 11 PM already?! Juuust great. How wonderful. I’m gonna be half asleep during class tomorrow morning. Having spent the last four hours going through several textbooks, my sense of time had escaped me.

Usually, I didn’t study on-campus and instead opted for the sanctity of my single dorm room. I wouldn’t say I’m anti-social, but I do enjoy having my own space and no one to disturb me. Today, I thought, ‘maybe I should go for a change in scenery.’ In theory, it was a good idea, in practice, not so much.  

My decision was met with literal natural resistance as I had to walk against the cold, mid-November wind to get to the library. What made it worse was that half-way there, I realized I forgot my headphones. Usually, this wouldn’t be a big deal, so I didn’t think much of it. But after a few hours in a silent library where you can hear your own and others’ breathing, the simplest of noises could be heard. And for me, that noise was my pencil. To add to this, I had accidentally left one of my required readings in my dorm. I’m not a forgetful person, so this was just another annoyance added on to my already growing list. All things considered, I was a bit disappointed in myself for my oversight.

Anyways, while studying, my blistered finger, sore hand, desire to finish my work, and all my other problems, slowly made me irritated and made the pencil’s tune unignorable. Now, finally, I was done. Well, at least with the things I had with me.

Focusing on my stacked textbooks, I examined the titles and read them off in my head as if they were trophies. Biology: Life in a Nutshell, The Fundamentals of Linguistics, Introductory Economics, World History: Past to Present. A small smile formed on my face, only to leave as fast as it arrived. What am I going to do with my life? Why am I even trying? I put my arms on the table, laid my head down, and let out a soft groan. I like studying as much as anyone else, maybe a bit more, but that sucked. I still have three and half more years of this, uhhh……. At least I’m mostly caught up... I still can’t believe I forgot my English reading though.

I sat up and poked my head out of my cubicle. Currently, I was in one of many in a row of boxed in study spaces lined against the wall. Behind me were an assortment of tables, chairs, and couches with computers and other supplies neatly placed throughout the room. The newly built library had a semi-modern approach with polished dark wood, gray brick accents, and white walls. The place was minimalistic, yet had an aesthetic feel. It even had that fresh scent that accompanied new things. Overall, I liked it, but I still preferred my dorm. 

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I’m literally the last person here. I let out a soft sigh and began packing up my things. Water bottle, check; trash, check; textbooks and notebook, check; pencil, pencil… check; aaannd hoodie, check. After fastening my backpack’s straps, I pulled the navy sweatshirt over my head and down. The heater had been on since I got here, and I was warm enough as I was, so I had taken it off before I began studying.

With everything put on and snuggly kept away in my backpack, I stood up and swung the bag over my shoulder. Oops almost forgot my phone. I bent over and picked up the device, checking my notifications this time—no new messages, typical.

This year was my first in college, so not having many friends or any, in my case, was a given. Although, to begin with, I wasn’t very social. I mean, I could hold my own in a conversation and had plenty to say, but I wasn’t outgoing. Doing my own thing was what I liked, and friends just happened to be a rarity in my life. Although, it was a rude awakening after high school when I realized I had made no lasting friendships.

Sure, I had played travel soccer, hung out with people at school, and had a decent amount of followers on social media, but that was the extent to which my connection with people went. Surprisingly though, I had had a girlfriend at one point. At least, for a few weeks.

Ever since my mother had passed away when I was eight, my mother’s friend had taken care of me. My father had left before I was born, and my mother had no next of kin. So the only person close enough to my mom and me, my “Aunty,” as I called her, became my guardian. She was a nice and orderly woman, but she had high expectations of me and could be strict at times. When she got wind that I was dating, she wasn’t too thrilled.

I respected her a lot, but she gave me a choice between focusing on school and working or dating and living on the street. She reasoned that college was what I should be aiming for and that if I wanted to get in and pay off my dues, now wasn’t the time for girlfriends. Supposedly I’d find someone else later in life.

Begrudgingly I had to end my relationship; thankfully or maybe, unfortunately, the girl understood and didn’t make a fuss about it. I could have probably made it work and just went behind my Aunty’s back, but, as I said, I respected her, and she was the only family I had left. I didn’t want to lose her too.

Looking back, I focused too much on studying, working, reading, and soccer that I didn’t make time for anything else. I was too wrapped up in searching for my purpose in life and staying afloat. And now I’m here, in college, friendless. Still single, still studying and working, and still trying to figure out what I should do.

I looked around the room one last time before turning and walking towards the exit. With no one else here, it was eerily quiet. I reallllly wish I brought my headphones. Not wanting to stay any longer, I weaved through the tables and chairs and made my way through the open stairway doors. I was on the first floor and needed to get to the exit on the third. So I bounded up the steps two at a time, not making much noise as I went.

Three quarters the way up, when my left foot went down on another step, my ankle twisted, and I slipped. Shit! I gasped in pain. Fear thundered into my head as I suddenly fell backward. I flailed my arms in an attempt to steady myself. But it was for naught. My feet left the ground, and my body spun around as gravity brought me headfirst down several flights of stairs.

My thoughts raced, and all I could think of was that I had yet to do anything in life. I had never traveled the world like I wanted to, never gotten married or fallen in love; heck, I hadn’t even had my first kiss! I don’t want to die like this! My thoughts ended as my head plummeted down onto the top edge of a step. Then the world went black.